The Spirit Speaketh

The Spirit Speaketh

By

Barefoot Bob



Ya know…It gets damn lonely being the Spirit (notice I said “the” Spirit.”) Since I’m all there is and there aint no more, there can only be one of me. About all there is to do around here (which is, of course, everywhere) is to listen to the sound of my own echo: Hello…Hello…Hello…Echo….Echo…Echo….Bye the way, why the Hell (that’s another story) am I talking to myself in the first place? I haven’t invented language yet. I don’t need language (or anything else, for that matter) because language is a tool for communicating with another entity. And since I’m the only entity there is, I don’t know how this language thing got into me. Oh, well…I suppose I could create other entities to talk to and those other entities would have to do my Will. They’d have to follow orders or risk pissing me off. I guess I have wrath, but I don’t know where that came from. If I had wrath it would make me less than perfect, and, damn it, I am perfect. If I’m not perfect than I’m not me.

Come to think of it, why am I lonely? There’s never been any other entities around except me. If there were other entities except me, I guess I could feel lonely. But there aren’t. Just me. I’m it. I don’t need anything. I don’t need to create anything. If I created entities less perfect than me, I’m sure that they would have needs. These other thingys that I create would feel emotions like love, hate, envy, fear, lust…Lust? Yeah…Sure…I could create one of each kind of these thingys and make them desire each other. Of course, I’ll be sneaky about it. I’ll create a serpent and have it tempt them with some kind of forbidden fruit. Then I’ll tell these fools if they eat of the fruit they’ll know they are naked and lust for each other. But first I’ll tell them they have a free will ( more bull shit on my part) because I’m omniscient, I know everything. I already know they’re going to give into the temptation. So, what is the point? What is the point of creating something less perfect than myself? The act of creation, itself, would limit my perfection. And that’s impossible. These thingys I create would have to create things, but I don’t. I’m sure that these thingys, if I decide to create them and risk losing my own perfection, will some day multiply. And when things get out of hand, they’ll create me to keep each other in line. I’m also positive these other thingys will create things similar to me, like Santa Clause, The Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. Then they’ll try to be good to each other or they won’t get any presents, since presents, material stuff, is what they really want. They’ll use all that material stuff to keep their minds off not knowing where they came from or why—a frightening thought.